


Infinite Returns

by weakinteraction



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Deaths within Time Loop, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, Time Loop, Waking up in the future with unexpected family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: Pike gets trapped in a time loop, a skirmish in a wider war.Years later, he wakes up in a very different future to the one he imagined he faced.
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Christopher Pike
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Past Imperfect Future Unknown 2019





	Infinite Returns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AMintJulep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMintJulep/gifts).



Chris woke up blearily.

Somehow, he was expecting his bed to feel firmer than this, and he had a nagging sense of unease that there was something wrong: with him, with the universe. But the bed was comfortable, and artificial sunlight was pouring in through a window of a type you just didn't get on board a starship--

He had definitely been on a starship. The Enterprise? No. The Discovery.

Something was wrong. This definitely wasn't the Discovery.

"Hey," came a relaxed voice next to him.

Unease was replaced by utter confusion. He certainly hadn't gone to bed with anyone--

No, wait, this was normal, this was fine. This was Hugh.

"Are you all right?" Hugh asked, and somehow his eyes showed Chris that he had gone into "Doctor" mode. But that was the only mode he'd ever encountered him in, wasn't it?

"I ... I think so," Chris said. "I feel fine. But-- I'm not sure I remember ... anything."

"Anything? Do you know who I am?"

"You're Doctor Culber," Chris said. "Hugh Culber," he went on. "Hugh. You're Hugh."

Doctor Culber -- Hugh -- seemed to have plenty more questions, but they had to wait, as a small Andorian came bounding into the room, antennae twitching with enthusiasm. "Morning, Commodore Dad; morning, Doctor Dad!" she yelled, practically jumping onto the bed.

"Morning, sweetie!" Hugh said, hugging her.

"We're starting elementary warp theory at school today," the girl said excitedly. "I've been waiting all semester, I read all about intermix ratios last year and--"

"That's great, honey," Hugh said. "But, y'know, I think Dad isn't feeling too great this morning, so why don't we leave him to have a rest?"

"Sure," the girl said. She leaned over and kissed Chris's forehead, something he expected he would find uncomfortable, but didn't in the slightest. "Feel better soon!"

Hugh half-shooed, half-bundled her out of the bedroom. In the doorway, he turned round to shoot Chris a look of concern.

"Commodore?" Chris mouthed at him. " _Dad_?"

"OK, we have a lot to talk about," Hugh said. "Just ... not right now."

* * *

_The first iteration_

The voices that spoke all around him were those of the Discovery crew, but they spoke in eerie unison. "Captain Pike," said Control through its myriad puppets. "You have failed."

He put his hands up, surrendering. "Yes," he said simply.

It was Detmer who was closest; the nanoswarm erupted from her, making its way towards him and then--

* * *

"So ... that's our daughter?"

"Toran," Hugh said, waving his fork in the air. They were having a late breakfast after Hugh had returned from taking Toran to the starbase's educational facility. "Adopted daughter, obviously; all four of her parents were killed in the disaster on Corvalt II. With the interference from the storm, we could only beam people out a few at a time. Everyone on the surface agreed to send the children first, and by the time the shuttles got there it was already too late-- You don't remember any of this, do you? They gave you a medal and everything."

"No, sorry," Chris said. He decided it was time to confront the one that was really confusing him. "And ... we're married?"

"Eight years ago next month," Hugh said, with a sad smile. "But you don't remember any of that, either, do you?"

"I think I remember ... sickbay. The sickbay on the Discovery."

Hugh looked alarmed. "We ... uh, don't say that name."

"OK, then, just 'sickbay'," Chris said, feeling even more confused. "I remember spending a lot of time there. With you. I mean, not with you. I don't think. I'm not sure what I remember, to be honest."

"We always knew this was a possibility," Hugh said solemnly. "Asynchronicity syndrome."

Chris dropped his spoon in surprise. "I was in a _time loop_?"

"Well, I suppose we all were," Hugh said. "But for whatever reason, you were the one who remembered it."

* * *

_The second iteration_

\--it should have all been over.

Instead, Chris sat bolt upright in his bed.

Was this some sort of hallucination? Was Control hijacking his consciousness, feeding it into a simulation, to distract it from whatever futile attempts it might make at resistance?

"Computer, report on the status of the Discovery."

"All primary systems nominal," the computer voice said. "Repairs proceeding in Transporter Room Three, Mess Hall Two, and the--"

That was right, the food synthesizers were all over the place with the temperatures: stone cold coffee, room temperature ice cream that remained solid, warm gazpacho soup ...

No, wait, that had been fixed. He had eaten in Mess Hall Two himself; that was where he had been just before being called to the bridge -- too late to do anything except witness the final end of the ship and its crew.

"Computer, what's the stardate?"

"Stardate 1251.6, local relative standard."

"Repeat, please."

"Accounting for several recent warp-speed journeys, and allowing for synchronisation drift between local time on board ship since the last contact with Federation Standard Time at Starbase Seven, the current stardate is 1251.6."

* * *

Chris looked round at the senior staff, watching for their reaction to everything he had just told them.

"We should proceed from the premise that you are not hallucinating," Burnham said.

"Thank you," Chris said drily.

"We have experience with this sort of thing before," Saru added. "The incident with Mr Mudd ..."

"You think this might be a _loop_?" Chris said.

"If it is not, then it is imperative that we find a way to stop Control," Burnham said.

"What do you know about how the ship was infiltrated?"

"I ... don't," Chris said, the realisation spreading through him like a sickness.

"Then perhaps," Saru mused, "we should hope that it is indeed a loop, and you can gather intelligence before it resets."

"Either way, I need to know everything that's going on on this ship," Chris said. "Perform a full level one diagnostic to see if the systems have already been infiltrated. Don't let anyone or anything on or off the ship, and I mean _any_ thing: shut down the ramscoops, even--"

Suddenly, he doubled over, wracked with pain.

Burnham was at his side in an instant, supporting him. "Captain?" Her voice seemed to come from ever further away as she said, "We have to get him to sickbay, immediately."

* * *

"Captain?"

He wasn't sure whose voice it was, at first.

"Captain, can you hear me?"

He opened his eyes; it took some moments for them to focus, but then he saw Dr Culber.

"We've found a way to bring your neurons back into phase with the timestream," he said, as though this was only a few steps up from resetting a broken limb.

It was only when he tried to sit up that he realised that his head was encased in some sort of helmet. He looked to the side, trying to catch his reflection in the polished bulkhead.

"It's ... a little cumbersome," Dr Culber admitted. "But it does the job. Although ... I'm afraid you'll be confined to sickbay."

"Then get the senior staff here," Chris said. "They need to--"

He felt himself slipping away again, as he had before in the lab.

"Steady, Captain, it seems that the phase shift is exacerbated by stress."

"I hate to break it to you, doc, but this is going to be a stressful day. What do you have that can help me with that?"

"I would usually suggest a range of relaxation therapies ... But I think in the circumstances ..." By now, he was rummaging around in the pharmaceutical supplies. "This is not to be taken lightly," he warned as he returned with the hypospray.

"Believe me, I don't take any of this lightly."

"I was already going to be monitoring your vital signs closely, but if you're going to have 50 ccs of this stuff floating around in your system ..."

"What are you saying, Dr Culber?"

"I'm going to have to be at your senior staff meeting. Do you think you'll cope with that?"

"I imagine we'll manage."

* * *

Memories are starting to come back to him, but they are jumbled -- he can't tell which are from the last eight years of linear time, and which are from the time loop. Hugh has suggested that he try to go about his normal routine, see if anything triggered his memory. At first he demurred -- it wasn't as though the Commodore of a starbase could bluff his way through his duties -- until he saw who he was scheduled to meet with at 1400 hours.

The Enterprise was docked. Hugh really should have told him that earlier. So, too, was the Defiant, its thrusting young captain, James Kirk, having brought it safely away from a trap sprung by the Tholians, according to his briefing. Kirk was insisting that repairs to the Defiant ought to be prioritised, but the Enterprise was needed to take over patrol duties along the Neutral Zone.

Number One -- in his confused state, he couldn't bring himself to think of the Enterprise's captain as anything but -- had suggested all manner of compromises, but insisted that the realignment of the Enterprise's dilithium crystals had to take place on schedule. Chris had -- apparently, before he lost his memory -- summoned them and their first officers to thrash it all out.

"You did well, Jim," Chris told Kirk. "I reread the report this morning--" No need to say that any previous knowledge of it escaped him entirely right now. "I don't think many Captains would have made it out of there with the ship and crew in one piece."

"Thank you, Commodore," Kirk said, even though he seemed desperate to start pressing his case for the Defiant to be put back in working order as soon as possible. Pike couldn't blame him -- he remembered how he had felt when the Enterprise had needed to be refitted. Although, in his case, that had led to his temporary command of the Discovery and Number One overseeing the work ...

"I have a suggestion, if you don't mind."

When he didn't say anything for a while, trying to grasp the thought that seemed to be just escaping him on the periphery of his consciousness, Spock put in, "Commodore, I believe the human expression is, 'We are all ears'."

He smiled at Spock. "Indeed. Num-- Captain," he said, turning to his former first officer. "You have experience of managing the sort of complex repairs the Defiant will need, do you not?"

"I'd be happy to give Captain Kirk the benefit of my advice whenever he cares to ask for it," she said. "As, indeed, I've been trying to do."

"Just so long as you get your damned crystals realigned," Mitchell, Kirk's XO, put in.

"Gary," Kirk said warningly.

"And Captain," Chris said, turning back to Kirk. "You are widely acknowledged as one of the foremost tactical talents in Starfleet. After all, no one else has ever ... solved ... the Kobayashi Maru. Your recent experiences with the Tholians are just another example."

"Where are you going with this?" Number One asked, adding a "Sir" just in time. "You want us to ... what, swap ships for the duration?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Chris said. "But I'm going to give you a special assignment, Jim. You're to travel on board the Enterprise -- not as her Captain, but as the Commodore's special consultant. Study the disposition of our forces and the Romulans' along the Neutral Zone, see what we can do better, how we need to respond. You'll be within subspace range of us the whole time, keeping up to date on the repairs. I'm sure the Defiant will be in good hands with Commander Mitchell, after all."

The only person who didn't seem satisfied with the arrangement was Mitchell himself, but he seemed to think better of saying anything.

As the meeting broke up, Chris said, "Spock, stay behind a moment please." At the inquiring looks of the others, he added, "A personal matter, I assure you."

Number One gave him a quizzical glance as she left -- Chris imagined there weren't many topics that she would feel he would want to talk to Spock about, and not her.

"How can I assist you, Commodore?" Spock said, taking the seat that Chris gestured him into.

"Spock, I'm having-- When we were on board the Discovery, do you remember a time loop?"

"You are experiencing asynchronicity syndrome," Spock said simply.

"Yes," Chris said.

"My condolences."

"It's more than that, though, Spock," Chris said. "In my memories from ... before, the ones that are still clear, there's-- Boreth. I had a vision there. I saw my future. _This_ wasn't it. Commodore Pike, in command of Starbase 288, the happy family man ..."

"You believe another fate awaits you?"

"No," Chris said. "Not any more. I don't know that it does."

"Then you feel that you have cheated fate somehow?"

"I suppose so."

"You know, of course, that it is the position of the Vulcan Science Academy that time travel is impossible."

"I know that it _used_ to be," Chris said. "Until the evidence became too--"

"No," Spock said, quite forcefully. "The position remains the same. It is not something that the Academicians usually attempt to explain the nuances of to those not fully versed in temporal mechanics, but the impossibility of time travel is almost a philosophical tenet for Vulcans. And it is one that continues to be true, from a certain point of view."

"I'm sure you're about to enlighten me."

"Time travel is possible, in the limited sense that one can depart from one position in spacetime and arrive at another separated from it in ways that light cannot yet reach. Even the simple warp drive is a time machine, from one point of view. But travel into you own relative past, as the Enterprise did two years ago to escape Psi 2000, is a different matter -- by changing it, you create a new future, but the one you departed from continues to exist as an alternate timeline, otherwise your own existence would be paradoxical."

A vision came to him, out of the memories that are still unclear: the desolate galaxy. "Then all of the timelines where Control won ...?"

"Still exist, in some sense," Spock said. "But so too do all the others in which it did not. You have heard of an even more important tenet of Vulcan philosophy, I think? 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.' It applies nowhere more so than to the multiplicity of possible timelines. The Burnhams' battle against Control was the means by which that diversity was ensured. Technically, the time loop you experienced represented a very large number of time travel backwards."

"You mean, there are so many possible futures that my vision on Boreth can be true, and I can still be here now?"

"If Vulcan logic will not sway you, then I have remembered another human expression," Spock said. "'Do not look a gift horse in the mouth'."

Chris smiled. "Thank you, Spock."

"I am not certain I have been of any assistance at all," Spock said. "But it was good to see you again, nevertheless."

* * *

_The seventh iteration_

__For the first time, he went straight to sickbay._ _

__"You seem remarkably accepting of all this," he said._ _

__"It's not that long since I was dead," Dr Culber said as he fitted him for the skullcap -- a more lightweight version of the helmet he'd worn previously, based on two different Sarus' refinements. "While in actual fact fighting for my life to survive what turned out to be, in effect, an immune response from the mycelial network. I think I can believe time travel."_ _

* * *

He let Hugh take him out for dinner. Not that there was a huge amount of choice of venues on board the Starbase, but it was a little more than simply a choice of mess hall as it would be on board ship.

Hugh's presence was easy, comforting, familiar even while still unfamiliar. When Chris found himself reaching out to touch his hand as they wait for dessert, it was almost as though his body had muscle memory of their togetherness, entirely separate from the confusion in his mind.

Hugh squeezed back, smiling.

"Shall I tell you the story of what happened on our honeymoon?"

Chris looked around, as though someone would overhear.

"It's not _that_ sort of story. It's more of the Christopher Pike, Starfleet hero stuff. You just don't seem to be able to help yourself."

"Then no, that's not the sort of story I want to hear right now. Tell me about Christopher Pike, husband and father."

Hugh smiled. "Gladly."

* * *

_The fifteenth iteration_

__He knew full well that the Angel couldn't communicate with him; or, more importantly, that he wouldn't be able to understand anything that she said. But that doesn't stop him from wanting answers._ _

__"What's happening?" he said, bewildered. "Are you here to help me?"_ _

__The Angel didn't speak. But when it reached for him, he understood._ _

__"You need _me_ to help _you_ ," Chris said._ _

__The Angel vanished again._ _

* * *

_The sixteenth iteration_

__"If we're right," Burnham said, "that this is some smaller skirmish in a wider war--"_ _

__"The Angel's struggle against Control," Spock said, "if we have interpreted the suit logs correctly, is of unprecedented scope."_ _

__"Then by that logic, if the Angel is taking an interest in one little time loop, it must be of prime importance."_ _

__"Agreed," Spock said. "But if that is the case, why do such interventions not appear in the logs?"_ _

* * *

When they returned from what Chris had to admit had been a very successful "first date", the babysitter -- a young Yeoman keen to impress -- seemed nervous. "You have a visitor," he said. "She's in the living area."

Hugh went in to take a look and came back again, ashen faced. "Where's Toran?" he demanded.

"Here I am, Dad!" She came bouncing out of her bedroom.

"I put her down hours ago," the babysitter said. "But--"

"It's OK," Hugh said, "she gets like this. You go now, get a good night's sleep." He seemed tense, far more so than Chris had seen him at any point in worrying about the asynchronicity syndrome.

When Philippa Georgiou emerged into the foyer, he saw why. "You're back."

"Who's this, Daddy?" Toran asked Chris.

"This is Captain Georgiou," Chris said. "Captain Georgiou and I were friends at the Academy, a long time ago."

"My best friend at school is Fris," Toran said solemnly. "He's a Tellarite."

Georgiou gave a fixed smile. "That must be delightful for you."

"Hey, sweetie, what do you say we go for a late night walk in the arboretum, see if we can't wear you out for bed?"

"Yay!" Toran said enthusiastically.

"I figure we'll be about a half an hour," Hugh said, giving him a glare over Toran's shoulder as he scooped her up in his arms. The subtext couldn't be clearer: _Make sure she's gone before we get back._

"Why are you here?" Chris demanded, as soon as the door was closed.

"You've been irresponsible, Commodore Pike."

"Don't stand there wearing the uniform of a woman who represented everything you're not and talk to me about responsibilities."

"A necessary disguise, that's all," Georgiou said. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here on a Starbase if I could help it. Not our sort of place at all."

"So, my conversation with Spock was bugged?"

"You should count yourself lucky that I continue to take an interest."

"Then Section 31 don't know?" Georgiou's eyes narrowed marginally, as though trying to discern the difference between her and Section 31; Chris wondered for a moment quite how high she had been allowed to rise in their power structures since the Control crisis. " _Why_ do you take an interest?"

"Michael was important to me," she said. "And anything that threatens the secrecy of the Discovery's final fate is a problem, from where I'm standing."

"I don't know if you picked up from your eavesdropping, but I'm suffering from asynchronicity syndrome ..."

"I know," Georgiou said. "I just don't care. It's not an excuse now."

"The memories are starting to become clearer," Chris said. He has one particularly vivid one: how Hugh was about to stay on board the Discovery, but changed his mind at the last minute.

"Then is it all just some tedious crisis of conscience that's making you spill secrets everywhere? In that case, if you won't listen to your friend when he's speaking wisdom, then listen to me when I'm speaking truth."

"I'm listening," Chris said, making sure his reluctance is obvious.

Georgiou walked back through to the living area and sat down casually on the couch, for all the world as though she really was an old friend from the Academy catching up. "Let me tell you the history of my universe," she said.

"Should we be talking about this?"

"While your daughter was eating her evening meal, my nanobots scoured these entire quarters for any and all surreptitious devices."

"That sounds like--"

"Control technology?" Georgiou nodded. "It's tame, now, though, don't worry."

"So," Chris said, sitting down uncomfortably. "The history of your universe."

"Do you know how my predecessors became quite as powerful as they did? No, of course you don't. But it hardly matters if I tell you our most terrible secret: that the human ingenuity we thrived on was not our own, but borrowed from your universe."

"I'm sorry?"

"The Defiant," Georgiou said. "When the Tholians captured it, it arrived a hundred years ago in my universe. The ship itself, and then its technology, allowed Empress Sato to exert her will over the entire quadrant."

"But the Tholians _didn't_ capture it; Kirk--"

" _Precisely_ ," Georgiou hissed. "And so now here I am, a walking contradiction, coming from a universe which simply cannot exist. Unless Spock is right. In which case: be miserable, or be happy. It's your choice. But don't take Michael's away from her."

* * *

_The twentieth iteration_

__"We have to stop meeting like this," Chris said to Hugh._ _

__He wasn't sure when it had become "Hugh", not "Dr Culber". But spending almost every hour of a subjective month with someone had its own curious kind of intimacy, even if you it wasn't reciprocated._ _

__"I ... wasn't aware that we were," Hugh said, but he seemed to be smiling at something. Did the others retain some sort of vague impressions from one loop to the next? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part?_ _

__"Captain," Burnham said, as she entered the room. "This is--"_ _

__"A most unusual venue for a meeting, I know." He turned to Hugh. "Tell them what you've found."_ _

__"I ... haven't found anything yet," Hugh said._ _

__"Oh, right," Chris said. "You need to scan my neural patterns for chroniton displacement. And then put together a device that can inhibit it."_ _

__"Of course I do. Do you have any suggestions?"_ _

__"Actually, yes. Or rather, your past selves -- and several Lieutenant Sarus -- do." He started to reel off the technical specifications he'd memorised, even as another part of his brain was working on the still-unsolved problem of tracking down Control's infiltration._ _

* * *

_The final iteration_

__"Control," Chris said. "You have failed."_ _

__"At taking over Discovery by this method, perhaps," came the voice on the comm -- _not_ , finally, on the ship at all. "But I have many routes to apotheosis. You cannot hope to block them all."_ _

__"You wanna bet?"_ _

* * *

_The morning after_

__Chris sat bolt upright in bed, the jumbled memories of all the previous loops contesting in his brain for space._ _

__"Computer, what's the stardate?"_ _

__"Stardate 1253.2," came the calm reply._ _

__"That's-- That's not possible."_ _

__Only then did he look across._ _

__Hugh was waking up, blearily. "Hey," he said._ _

__"This is--"_ _

__"Not how you were expecting to wake up?" Hugh guessed._ _

__"I've ... gotten used to a certain routine," Chris said._ _

__"Well, I suppose you would have done." Hugh smiled. "But now it's time to make a new one."_ _

* * *

"I remember now," Chris said. "All of it. Both versions."

"I can't believe you were in the loop for a decade," Hugh said. "But that's the only thing that makes sense of the amnesia hitting _now_."

"It also makes sense of me being quite so ... forward with you, that first time," Chris said.

"I didn't mind. But now I feel as though I should be jealous. You have more memories of time with me than I do of time with you, now."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not an insoluble one."

"How do we solve it?"

"We grow old together. Then the difference will be negligible in comparison to the total."

He took Hugh's hand in his, then leaned in to kiss him. "I think we can manage that."


End file.
